


Human Conventions

by BubblyWashingMachine



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Deviancy, and connor, i couldn't be bothered doing much research, it/its pronouns, there are a couple random ocs to flesh out the police force, this is a love letter to detroit become human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 03:15:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16736052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubblyWashingMachine/pseuds/BubblyWashingMachine
Summary: The RK800 is Cyberlife's most advanced Android prototype to date. Having only been online for mere hours, however, Connor's reputation precedes it - making a good impression is its first, and most challenging objective.AKA me messing around inside the head of the best character who ever existed. Takes place pre-canon and pe-deviancy, probably not canon compliant but whatever you know?





	Human Conventions

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to write some Detroit: Become Human fanfiction ever since I discovered it. Finally got around to it. I was gonna have more chapters, and I did write them, but nahh. Leave me some feedback, if you like.

The first time Connor saw itself was in the reflection of a glass door. It had been a functioning machine for a mere two hours, undergoing both the standardized Android tests and specialized ‘training’ unique to the RK800 model – it had undergone several simulations designed to test the RK800’s advanced sparring and martial arts knowledge, its ability to analyse oral samples, the reconstruction of events, making reports, interrogations, the preconstruction of actions, and other programs exclusive to the prototype before it was released from the facility and saw daylight for the first time.

It was only for a split second, but Connor didn’t need more time than that to take a full analysis.

**System online. Analysis complete. Given name: Connor. Model: RK800. Serial: #313 248 317 - 51**

A machine gazed back at it. A machine with tamed dark brown hair, fake freckles, a youthful and boyish face too symmetrical and perfect to be human, and cold eyes betraying no emotion. An LED shone on the machine’s temple, flickering as the Android took in the information and filed it away.

Two Cyberlife officials and one police assistant Android escorted it out of the building, answering questions from the small group of selected journalists. The RK800 would not be getting its own personal interview. Connor’s visual receptors adapted immediately to the blindingly bright sunlight, but its unusually strong ‘human conventions’ software forced its eyes to blink and squint, and the RK800’s arm came up in a reflex action to block the light. This built-in ‘human conventions’ protocol was another of Cyberlife’s attempts to make their Androids seem more like real people – as the company’s most recent and advanced model, it was more human than ever - Connor found this mildly irritating, and made a note to disable that particular feature.

It was its first time out of the factory – Connor took a moment to observe its surroundings. It was a mild day, with little cloud coverage but not very warm. There was a low probability of rain. Connor tuned into a few television and radio feeds, plucking them from the air – it soon latched onto live coverage of the small event, and saw a video of itself walking down the stairs.

“We’re here live at the official release of Cyberlife’s latest prototype, the RK800. While not much information has been discharged about what the role of the model is, Cyberlife has confirmed that this is their most advanced Android to date and that it will be involved somehow with the police force. Hopefully, our questions will be answered in just a few moments, as I know we’re all dying to hear about what the much-anticipated RK800 can do.”

Connor felt as though everything was going a little fast. It hadn’t been online for a full day and already the media was going to interrogate it? They approached the group of reporters.

“What can you tell us about the role the RK800 will play in Detroit Police investigations?” a woman asked. Her voice matched that of the feed it had just been listening to. Connor glanced in her direction, wondering whether or not she was addressing it.

**Sterling, Camryn. Born: 02/09/2008. Currently employed at Detroit Daily as a writer and journalist. Criminal record: none.**

A Cyberlife official, one whom Connor didn’t bother scanning, answered in a clipped voice before it could reply. Connor disliked this. “The RK800 is designed to assist police in any way necessary, able to take on the role of a detective or field agent as required,” he said quickly, guiding Connor to the waiting automobile as Sterling nodded and the people behind her took hurried notes. “It is fundamentally similar to police assistant Androids but with many more features, and will be active in investigations in ways never before seen. Primarily, it will be used to negotiate with and interrogate criminals.” Connor knew the man was covering up its real purpose as a ‘Deviant hunter’ to downplay the significance of the Deviant crisis that was steadily spreading.

The woman continued. “We understand that this is Cyberlife’s most advanced prototype to date- What are some major differences between the RK800 and previous models?”

Again, the man answered before Connor could reply. “The RK800 is equipped with many state-of-the-art abilities                and therefore is able to take on more roles in the police force.” Connor noted that the man had only repeated himself. It bothered it that its true purpose wasn’t disclosed to these people.

Sterling pressed on. “Will the widespread use of the RK800, given it’s successful, have an impact on the growing unemployment rate?”

The man hesitated.

**Analysing objectives…**

**Objective: make an interesting first impression**

**Calculating probability of serious repercussions…**

**Probability of repercussions: 41%**

**Selecting priorities…**

Connor took the opportunity to speak, cutting the man off. “I doubt that’s something you’ll need to worry about for a while,” it said warmly, speaking directly to her. “No matter how good I am at my job, there’s only one of me so far.” Sterling opened and closed her mouth, looking flustered. The man beside Connor gave it an unnecessary push toward the car, and it complied, giving the woman a small smile before turning away. It could practically feel the press recoiling in shock.

Having heard its own voice for the first time, Connor was pleasantly surprised. It was low and smooth, very calm, and charming. Very apt for a machine whose primary function was negotiation.

The DPD officer waiting by the car hissed at the escorts. “What the fuck? Can it do that?”

Connor got into the car. “I can do many things,” it replied, knowing the officer hadn’t been talking to it.

The man started, and swivelled to face it, grimacing.

**Officer Jenkins, Peter. Born: 05/06/1996. Currently employed at the DPD. Criminal record: none.**

“What the fuck?” he repeated. “You’re a machine. You speak when spoken to.”

**Possible replies: Cold, Emotional, Apologetic.**

**Selecting appropriate approach…**

Connor chose to be apologetic, prioritising good relations over a sense of pride that it didn’t have. It tilted its head, face expressionless. “I’m very sorry, but that just isn’t part of my programming.”

Jenkins stared. “Creepy,” he muttered.

“Isn’t it?” one of the Cyberlife officials said. “Intelligent, self-aware, and not bound to obedience like other Androids. I told them this might be a step too far, but we just can’t help ourselves…”

Jenkins scoffed and shook his head. “Fuckin’ great.”

Connor smiled. “Thank you.”

Jenkins’ rising heartrate suggested he was thoroughly creeped out. Connor gave up and looked out of the window, watching the scenery go by, and let itself slip into Standby mode.

**Objective: make an interesting first impression**

**[TASK COMPLETE]**


End file.
